A Desire for Justice
by Demi Brackensick
Summary: Mia, a Chicago PD detective, is on the hunt to track down a dangerous serial killer that proves to be untouchable. One who has a sharp eye to prey on young women. And one who may be the key link to her sister's murder. With many life threatening situations coming her way, the question is, will she be able to find this suspect and put an end to this killing spree once and for all.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**I wanted to re-write the first chapter and add a prologue in to this story. The next chapter that I had previously had will be the beginning of the story.**

**Hope you guys like this!**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p>Her footsteps sounded off the walls of the alley. The sharp clacks against the pavement somehow conveyed a hurried sort of nervousness, but she didn't know why she was so anxious. She wasn't used to closing the shop down alone, but it was barely after dark—far earlier than usual. The bosses had let everyone off early for the Christmas weekend, and she counted herself lucky. Still, something tonight was making her skin crawl. She shuddered against the cold and picked up the pace, grateful she had snagged a parking spot only a couple of blocks down from the store that day. Urban parking was usually the bane of her existence.<p>

The mouth of the alley opened up just a few more steps away, and she hurried her pace to a jog, feeling just a little foolish. She was in one of the safest cities in the country; she had no reason to be so paranoid. But why did she feel like she was being watched? Silly, silly girl. Nothing happened to anyone in this boring old place.

When she reached the mouth of the alley, she stopped, looking around and breathing a sigh of relief. That was her mistake. It was the last breath she ever took.

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><p><strong>Hey guys! So I decided to start off with a prologue to this story as opposed to jumping straight in to the story. Let me know what you guys think!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Crappy Mondays

**Hey guys! So I've had this story planned out for quite some time and I really wanted to get this out there and share with you guys. **

**Before you go on; yes, yes! I know! I'm terrible! I have a bunch of other stories that I need to update and finish as well! Yes, I get it! But I really wanted to get this story up and running. **

**So just a brief author's note here: This story does feature my OC, Mia, who rightfully belongs to me. So as I mentioned in my previous story, "Surviving Reality", if you want to use her, please get MY permission first. I'm not saying this to sound mean or anything, but I'm just very iffy about placing my character into the hands of someone that I do not know personally. **

**Another thing I wanted to say, is that I was inspired by one of my good friend, Galimatias, to write this story. Please check out her story, "Somewhere in Between". You'll love it!**

**A warning about this story: this story will be rated T for light language and a bit of violence and other minor rated T stuff. **

**That's all for now! Onto the story!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>Mia tiredly dragged her feet into the bar at exactly 4:15pm. On the dot. Not even one minute late. A hard day's work enforced the exhaustion to ache all over her. Normally, her days on the job were never this busy. Except for Mondays. Mondays were always Mia's least favorite days during the week. To her, Mondays were usually the days that implied death. Okay, maybe not death literally, but enough to make her feel as if she was about to be on her deathbed.<p>

Well, then again, she could be exaggerating.

How about we put it this way. Mondays were usually the days that were set up for disaster. And for some reason, Mia felt herself being stuck in that situation constantly. Almost every Monday was a complete mess. Whether it be a coffee stain on her new, fresh cut white blouse, or accidently burning her English muffin and hard-boiled egg for breakfast, or simply having to be stuck in traffic and arrive to work about a half hour late. You name it. Mondays were definitely not cut out to be a favorite day. At all.

"Hit me with the usual." She plopped herself onto the cushiony barstool at the bar table.

"Ah, the good ol' King Brewery Pilsner." The man behind the table smiled his mischievous smile at the woman leaning on the table before him. Tall, handsome and had a good built added to his physique. His sun-tanned skin was irresistible, and his shoulder length brown hair was often pulled back in a red sponge band. "Golden style like always I presume?"

Mia gave him a rather annoyed look. "I'm not in the mood Sinbad." She rolled her eyes. "Can you please just get me my beer?"

"Jeez, sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Sinbad smirked. Clearly he found her misery sort of amusing in a way. "Another shitty day at work, huh."

"Is it that obvious?" The sarcasm was evident in her tone.

"That bad I'm guessing?"

A groan in frustration was her response. Sinbad only chuckled, not feeling the least bit offended. He had grown immune to dealing with her crappy attitude during this time. After all, it was Monday. Unlike Mia, Mondays were his favorite days.

"I'm assuming you want me to leave the glass for ya?"

"Naw. Straight from the bottle." She rested her chin against her knuckle, growing more impatient by the minute.

Sinbad grinned. "You got it, babe."

"Sinbad, how many times have we been over this?" She gave him a pointed glare, slamming her hand against the table, "_do not _call me babe!" She made sure to keep her gaze locked with his. "Got it?"

Of course, it wasn't like Sinbad was going to take her seriously. Instead, he just laughed it off, though his tone lacked humor. Hearing that obnoxious sound ringing through her eardrums, Mia rolled her eyes and shook her head. In a way, she was baffled at how this man would never take 'no' for an answer. But then again, his cocky attitude was not very surprising to her, seeing as he was almost exactly like the type of men she had had to put up with in the past.

She was relieved when his laugh eventually began to die down. That same arrogant smirk spread widely across his face, and Mia found herself tempted to slap it off, but prevented herself from doing so. The glare had still masked her expression.

Sinbad sighed delightfully. "When will you ever quit playin' so hard to get?" He reached underneath towards the little mini fridge, and slid the bottle towards her.

Mia glared. "When will you ever learn to take _no _for an answer?"

"Until you finally say 'yes' to going on a date with me." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm still waiting for that day to come."

"Well, I hate to break it to ya' bud," She unscrewed the cap off her bottle and tilted it to her mouth, gulping down the first sip, "buut, it doesn't look like that day is gonna come any time soon."

"Ah, there's still hope." Sinbad shrugged, leaning against the counter behind him. "I mean after all," his eyes were still on hers, "a guy can dream, yunno."

Now it was Mia's turn to chuckle, her tone lacking any humor. "Yea? Well, keep dreaming busboy."

"For you? Anything." He winked at her.

"You're disgusting."

"You're beautiful."

She growled, feeling the tickle vibrating against her vocal chords. She took another large swig of her beer. And then another. And then another, a long one, right up until the alcohol was just beginning to find its way inside of her system. "I'm gonna need another bottle." She realized that she was merely finished her first bottle. He smirked again. "And by that, I mean _now _please!"

"As you wish, Princess." He grabbed another bottle and slid it towards her. Mia's eyes rolled once again, watching as he threw a damp white cloth over his shoulder, still wearing that arrogant smirk. "Just don't get too drunk this time." He leaned cautiously over the bar. "We don't want a repeat of what happened last Monday." He finished with a wink, and casually strolled to the other end to his next customer.

Glowering in his direction, Mia downed what she had left of her first bottle and immediately went for the next one. She would be lying to herself if she had dared denied the fact that the alcohol was really sinking in. Her vision hasn't exactly hit the blur stage just yet. But the amount of alcohol she had already consumed in just seconds was enough to make her head spin. So did all of her thoughts and worries. Lazily, she threw up a hand to balance her now heavy head, and her eyes began to droop slowly but surely. Again, she took another sip. And then another. And another, until she eventually downed her second bottle in the span on ten seconds. Before she knew it, she had called Sinbad over for another beer, which he willingly slid her another and went off to start bussing tables.

She never realized how much alcohol she had consumed in under ten minutes, seeing as she was now on her third and had already consumed half the bottle. But at this time, Mia could care less. She had had a rough day at work, and now she just needed an escape. Drowning her sorrows away with the consumption of alcohol was her only outlet. Eventually now, her vision began to blur slightly and she felt the weight of her body begin to slouch over the table in front of her.

"Back at the alcohol again, I see?" A smug voice rung through her ears behind her.

Mia didn't recognize the voice, as she was feeling all too tipsy to even realize. The hairs stuck up on her arms, and a chill ran up her spine. Her bloodshot eyes snapped immediately, as she quickly dropped her hand down to her hip to retrieve her gun.

Without thinking, Mia spun around. Her gun held in the air towards its target, just about ready to pull the trigger and shoot. Of course, her vision was too blurry to recognize the figure standing before her, arms held up in surrender.

"Don't even think about it, buster!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Mia relax! It's just me!" The voice pleaded, which suddenly become very familiar to Mia's ears.

Her vision began to subside, as she squinted her eyes to get a better look at her supposed intruder. She simply scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Phoebus, what the hell?" She dropped her gun to her side. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Phoebus chuckled. "Well hey, I didn't mean to scare ya there."

Mia gave him a pointed glare, despite the fact that her head had been spinning. "You nearly made me almost crap my pants!" She had said a little too loudly.

"Okay, okay!" Phoebus tried not to laugh out loud. "I'm sorry! Are you happy now?"

Mia snorted. Rolling her eyes lazily, she turned back to her bottle and took another swig of her drink. She nearly jumped and cursed under her breath, not realizing that Phoebus had somehow managed to sneak a seat beside her.

Phoebus inspected her carefully. A sly grin crept across his lips. "You drunk yet?"

"Ugh, I wish." She tilted the bottle to her mouth and gulped another swig. "Nothing's hit me yet."

"How much have you had?"

She sighed. "This is my third."

Phoebus signaled to Sinbad to get him a bottle of Corona. Phoebus was a very handsome young man. Tall, lean with a great body and golden, blonde hair, it was almost impossible for women not to drool over him. In a way, he was Mia's only friend; well more like her the only person whom she was closely acquainted to on the police force. Not to say that she didn't not have any other friends. She did. But Phoebus was her partner. He wasn't exactly her close friend per say. They had been partners for so long, but yet it was almost like the two knew absolutely nothing about one another. But that was due to the fact that Mia was a very private person and she would find it almost easy for her to keep anyone out of her personal life, which was how she preferred it. But after all, they were still partners.

It didn't take long until Sinbad placed the bottle before him, stopped briefly to grin mischievously at Mia, and retrieved back to his work. Phoebus unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a quick swig, before he turned to focus his attention on his somewhat intoxicated partner.

"Crappy Mondays got you drained, don't they?" He said knowingly.

"Oooh….you have no idea." Mia downed the last drop of her beer, slamming the bottle against the table.

"What happened?" Phoebus took another swig. "You showed up an hour late to work this time. That's usually not like you."

"Ugh." She leaned her head against the palm of her hand. "My alarm clock didn't go off this morning." Her body teetered forward slightly. "Stupid thing."

Phoebus looked at her, grinning. "That's why you were so late?" He set his bottle down. "Because of your little alarm clock?"

"Shut up, it wasn't my fault y'know!" She groaned. "Chief has been on my ass about this damn case."

"He's been on _all _of our asses with this case." Phoebus corrected her.

"Yea? Well you weren't the one that had to pull an all-nighter." She fumed at the thought. "Chief literally piled a bunch of paper work on me."

Phoebus furrowed his brow. "For what?"

"To try and gather any new evidence that would help tie to the case."

"Were you able to find anything?"

"No! That's what's been eating my alive all this time!" She slammed her hand against the table. "I stayed up until 4:00am this morning working my ass off to find any! And what did I end up getting? Noooothing!"

Phoebus shook his head at the thought. "Wow." He took another swig. "Chief's really got you slaying over a hot stove with this thing."

"By _'you'_, you mean _'us'_?" Now it was her turn to correct him, before she snorted. "This man doesn't know when to quit, does he."

"Tell me about it." He thought for a second. "So far, I think we're doing just fine. I mean, we have a couple of leads and what not."

"Yea but he wants answers, not just leads." She brought a hand to her now throbbing head, massaging her temple. "I just want to get this case over and done with."

Before either of them could get another word in, the vibration Phoebus felt in his pocket beat them to it. She watched as he pulled out his cellphone; his emergency cellphone that was. The brightness of the screen reflected off his face as his thumb hit the 'answer' button.

"Kline." Kline was his last name that he was usually referred to as while he was on the job. It was the same that he was ordered to go by in case of an emergency.

Immediately, Mia could sense the frown that was spreading its way across his features. It was the look that she knew all too well. She blinked once slowly, before Phoebus muttered "we'll be right there" and ended the phone call.

"Chief again?" Mia already knew the answer as Phoebus nodded.

"Yea." His answer was prompt. "Another body was found."

Mia slowly closed her eyes, and opened them back up. Her body went stiff and pretty soon, all her worries came flooding back. So much for the attempt of the alcohol drowning away all her sorrows. She made sure that her weapon was in place on her hip, before she gave Phoebus a wary look and hopped off the barstool.

"I was afraid of that."

Phoebus decided to pay for his and Mia's drinks; rewarding Sinbad with a small tip before he turned to face Mia. Not just his friend, but his partner as well.

"Ready when you are."

This was the moment where Mia was forced to stop being whatever she wanted to be in the world, and was forced to focus on being the person she was in real life. After all, it was definitely not easy having to be detective.

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><p><strong>That's it for the first chapter. Hope y'all like it! There will be more to come soon. I just wanted to introduce a little bit of my character's personal life, before I went ahead and got into the juicy parts. <strong>

**Let me know what you guys think!**


	3. Chapter 3: Discovery

**Here's chapter 2! I know y'all may not think this story seems to be very interesting, but I'm really excited for this and I will continue to write it for pure enjoyment. **

**But it would be nice if y'all would let me know what you think of this. I know that I've also got another Mystery story up that's still in the works but I promise, this story will take a different approach compared to the other one that I'm writing.**

**Another thing, I want to thank my good friend, Galimatias, for incorporating some of her AMAZING ideas, and for helping me to meticulously edit and polish this story. You have totally saved my a-...*ahem*...my behind girl! Please, if you haven't already done so, check out her stories! **

**Hope you guys enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

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><p>The drive didn't take long. Especially with the way how Phoebus drove. They had arrived at Grant Park in the span of ten minutes. How he managed to arrive at any destination with not a single dent in his car, Mia would never know. She had grown so immune to his reckless driving that it never fazed her anymore.<p>

Phoebus was the first to jump out of the car, while Mia found it slightly challenging to move from her seat. Eyes peered through the glass window, lingering amongst that same yellow tape that was all too familiar. The tape that spread around yet another unpleasant crime scene in an effort to shield any curious citizen who dared to step through. Situations like this was just the cherry to add on top of her stress, especially on Mondays.

Mia would admit, this was one of the many parts of her job that she hated. Not knowing what to expect every time she would approach a crime scene. The walk up was the worst part, but still to this day, she was where she was and she would manage to put all worries aside and become the person who was she supposed to be the most; a detective.

It wasn't like this was all so new to her. After all, she had seen worse things that may not even compare to whatever it is that she's prepared to face. It was her job after all, seeing as she's been on the squad force for about six years now.

A knock on the window had forced her thoughts on hold. She took a sigh in relief, realizing that it was only Phoebus who was on the other side. She pushed open the door slowly but surely, Phoebus standing over her.

"You coming?" He waited patiently.

She nodded, shaking off whatever tension she had before. "Yea."

She watched as Phoebus began to make his way toward the scene, prepping herself for whatever disaster she was about to face. She closed her eyes, breathed in sharp breath and stepped out the car. She didn't bother to lock it, since Phoebus was the one with the car keys.

She took her time, whispering to herself not to run but just take each step with a steady pace. She made sure that her weapon was in place; tight against her in hip in case anything unsuspected were to happen. It didn't take long for her and Phoebus to flash their badges at the uniform who was guarding the tape to close off the crime scene, where the other police officers were centered. The uniform nodded and lifted the tape for them slightly, and they ducked under the rest of the way. Righting themselves, they made sure to inspect the scene carefully, eyes peeled, and ears hearkened for anything that was off.

It was the body that caught her attention. The body that forced her breath to catch in her throat. The body of yet another innocent young woman that was weak and defenseless against her attacker. Clothes were ripped and torn. Deep knife wounds were evident all over her body. Her underwear was soaked with that same red liquid that managed to spill heavily between her legs. She was half naked, her hands bound behind her back and her mouth was bound. And to finish off, the word "_slut" _had been carved across her chest, just what they could see were two rising mounds that were covered in a bloody word. She lay in her own pool of blood that pressed through the sheer green grass, wearing the blood as if they were red rubies to a ball.

"What do we have?" Mia couldn't take her eyes off the body that lay before her.

"Female. Somewhere between early and mid-twenties. The perp really put a number on this one." Pocahontas Bedard, a medical examiner had informed the two detectives. She was a fairly young woman, around the same age as Mia. Native American descent, who was originally from the state of Virginia, but was transferred to Chicago. She was a pleasant person, gentle and kind. Mia liked her, and she was someone whose company was always enjoyable. "I'm ruling it in as a homicide."

"Any way to determine how long she's been dead for?" Phoebus began pulling out his latex gloves, noting how a swarm of forensics gathered around the body, snapping pictures and scribbling down the data they discovered.

"Judging by the post mortem, I would say at least twelve hours."

"Any identification on the victim?" Mia took the extra pair of latex gloves that Phoebus had given her, preparing for the worst.

"Nothing yet." Pocahontas admitted. "So far, I haven't found a single piece of ID."

"No credit card? Driver's license? Health card?"

"Not a single one. However, I did find a purse." She held up what looked to be a golden Michael Kors hand bag. "But I wasn't able to locate a wallet anywhere."

"You think the perp must've stolen it?"

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"How was she murdered?"

"Multiple stab wounds to the abdomen, and it looks like he decided to engrave the word _"slut" _on her chest." They circled the body closely. "And he didn't waste time in slitting her throat as well. I also found bite marks on her collarbone, shoulders, and deep bruising to her hips, thighs and buttocks."

"You mind if we examine the body ourselves?" A snap of the latex against flesh sounded.

"Knock yourselves out." Pocahontas gathered her tools and stepped aside, allowing some space for the working detectives to investigate.

Mia sucked down the heavy sigh that attempted to make its way up. This was always the most unpleasant and gut-wrenching part of her job that added to her stress; that was pretending the bodies weren't real. Another part of her job that she hated. Six years of being on the police force, and she wondered how she even managed to prevent herself from vomiting, or worse; crying. If it was one thing that being on the police force had taught her, is to grow thick skin. Not just thick skin per say, more like rough skin. Skin that was impossible to cut through. Part of being a hard-working detective was to put aside any emotional feelings. Especially as a female detective.

Reluctantly, Mia snapped the gloves on her hands and squatted down to begin inspecting the body. Phoebus followed as he did the same.

She lightly pulled the loose strands of bright red hair from the victim's face, inspecting the brutal wounds before her. Bright blue eyes stared blankly upward, lacking any life they had left. Her fingers came to a halt at the victim's jaw line, forcing the vomit down her stomach at the sight of her neck gashed with red liquid that surrounded it. She inspected closely, eyes squinted as she peered a little bit closer, noting the black and purple ligature marks around her neck.

"Looks like the perp had strangled her before he decided to slit her throat."

"Pocahontas wasn't kidding about the stab wounds." Phoebus frowned at the blood surrounding her abdomen. "If I had to guess, it looks like she took nine jabs to the gut."

"And he raped her." Mia glowered at the blood between the victim's legs. "He likes to torture his victims for God knows how long, steals their ID as a reward for his hard work and then after, he decides to brand them with any word that degrades women." She frowned at the word dug into the victim's chest, knowing this pattern all too well. "I know that for sure."

"Think it's the same perp?"

"The same perp that murdered those other four young women," she looked at Phoebus, her eyes silently telling him that they were in deep. "I'm not doubting it. It's him. I know this routine all too well."

"I'll survey the parameter." Phoebus stood. "And question any witnesses who might've seen or heard anything.

"We have to inform Captain Dayley about this immediately." Mia followed, eyes did not leave the victim. "Before this guy strikes again."

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><p>On Mondays, it was always another typical day at the precinct. The hustle and bustle of swarming officers at their desks getting to work on their cases. A few them had a hot cup of coffee sitting on the side of their desks, while it was evident that some of the others had run out of time to eat a nutritious meal, which resulted in having to turn to take-out food for their dinner.<p>

Their boss, Captain Clayton Dayley was busy in his office searching through reports, eager to find any new leads on the numerous cases he was battling at the moment. His office wasn't insanely large, but the space was big enough for anyone to be able to breathe. Most of the furniture was classy, but looked that way in a cheap sort of way. Papers were piled and splattered all over his desk, sneaking a quick sip of his now cold coffee, his eyes never leaving the fine print before him. He was man in his mid-forties. Tall, good built with hazel brown hair that he often kept gelled back. He was a very intimidating man, which was why a lot of people decided to keep their distance from him. Even his now ex-wife and his teenaged son barely even speak to him. He was considered a workaholic, seeing as he displayed no interest in anything else but his job.

He didn't bother to look up from the papers even at the sound of the door to his office opening and closing shut. But he could sense that it was Mia and Phoebus that stood behind his desk, eager to report their information to him.

"What'd you find?" His flipped through the files.

"Female. Somewhere to be in her early or mid -twenties." Phoebus answered promptly. "Found raped and murdered in Grant Park."

Clayton nodded, eyes still fixed on the papers spread out before him. "Do we have a name for the victim?"

"Jane Do." Mia answered. She had remembered that Phoebus had explained to her that Jane Do was often a name that the officers would refer to the victims with an unknown identification. "There was no ID found at the crime scene."

He paused from his work. Eyes met his two detectives standing before him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mia was quick to beat him to it.

"We believe it's possible that the perp could've stolen her wallet but had left her purse behind." She explained. "Just like he did…" she sucked in a deep breath, "with the other four."

Clayton sat up straight behind his mahogany desk, fingers folded as he gave the young woman a pointed look. "So what do you think?"

Mia looked him straight in the eyes. "I have a reason to believe that this could be the same person who murdered those other four girls."

"Huh." Clayton gave her a curt nod. "And how can you be so sure?"

"This young woman was tortured to death, sir." Phoebus spoke. "And plus with the wallet missing, it all seems to add up."

"And she was branded." Mia made sure to add in the last bit of evidence. "The word _'slut' _was carved across her chest; exactly like how the other four victims were found."

"Any new leads that might link us to the other four victims?" Clayton stood from his desk, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"So far, nothing yet. But we're still waiting for an autopsy report from Pocahontas on the victim."

"Were there any witnesses who may have seen what happened?"

"I talked to some of the witnesses." Phoebus crossed his arms over his chest. "None of them had seen or heard anything on the night of the murder. But an elderly lady had discovered the body while she was walking her dog in the park earlier this evening."

Clayton put a hand to his chin, fingers scratched at the stubble as he slowly but surely took every word in from his detectives. "So, no one saw Jane Do being attacked?" The two detectives shook their heads. "Has anyone reported Jane Do as missing?"

"No sir." Mia said quietly. "That's what we need to find out."

"Then I'll make sure to have Pocahontas try and run a DNA search so we can receive more information on this victim." Clayton made sure to jot this down. "In the meantime, Mia," He looked directly at the young woman, "I want you to keep searching through those files that I've assigned to you."

"Keep searching through those files?" Mia enunciated every single syllable that came from her boss's mouth, eyebrows raised. "For what?"

Clayton shot his eyes up, pausing from his writing. "For what? To find some new leads on this case, that's for 'what'."

"But Captain, I've already gone through _all _of the files you gave me." Mia placed a hand to her hip. "I wasn't able to find one single piece of evidence for a new lead."

"Okay, then go through them again." Clayton said nonchalantly as he scribbled down on the notepad below him.

"Go through them again?" She had to do everything in her power not to let her jaw drop. "Captain, you can't possibly expect me to-"

"Now is not the time for arguments, Miss Thompson." He didn't bother to look up from his writing. "It's an order, simple as that. Besides, you have a new case to add to this."

"But Captain-"

"Captain isn't there another way we can find any evidence from the previous cases that might possibly help us connect to the case we're investigating now?" Phoebus was quick to begin defending his partner, noting how she was about to blow up any second. "Besides having to go through all those files and paperwork?"

"This is not up for debate." Phoebus and Mia winced at the sudden change of tone in his voice. "There is a possible serial killer lurking about out there and we are nowhere close to nailing this son-of-a-bitch!"

"We know that Captain, but-"

"Then Kline," His tone shifted to a warning note, "I'm ordering you to assist Detective Thompson on the files."

"What?" Phoebus' brows raised. "But Captain-"

"End of discussion!" He carefully dropped his pen on the mahogany table and ripped the little sticky note off the notepad. "Until we find more information on Jane Do, you two are on temporary desk duty. Is that understood?"

Mia sighed heavily, as did Phoebus. "Fine." They both said in unison.

"Good." Clayton moved around the two and headed towards the door. "Now if you'll excuse me," he turned briefly to look at his detectives, "I have to speak to Miss Bedard quickly. You two get to work."

The door opened and closed shut in the blink of an eye. Mia shared a glance with Phoebus, before she went to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"So, to the files?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "To the files."

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><p>When she finally reached home at 1:30am, her feet hurt, and her head was pounding after a long night at the precinct. She had run out of time to eat dinner, which resulted in her having to make a quick pit stop at Tim Horton's to grab a crispy chicken sandwich and small lemonade to go. She couldn't fathom why she and Phoebus were assigned temporary desk duty on these previous cases, seeing as they were not able to find any new evidence. Why Captain Clayton had to be such a pain in the ass almost every single day, she didn't know.<p>

She trudged up the steps to her small townhome, ignoring the constant honking and the tires screeching against the concrete grounds. Another typical night in Chicago. One thing that a city like Chicago had in common with a city like New York, they were both known as the 'windy city'. On nights like this, it was no wonder why Mia would always keep her gun handy.

She wasted no time in kicking off her heels right outside the door, sighing in relief as they were able to breathe freely. Fumbling through her purse, she found her keys while she clutched her lemonade in the other hand. Grabbing hold of her keys, she slid it in the lock and finally managed to stumble her way in, leaning against the door as the darkness engulfed around her. Her eyelids drooped, immense exhaustion had immediately taken over her body. The feeling of being home gave her a sense of relief, and she immediately felt the need for a nice, hot shower and to sleep until next month.

A shower seemed more realistic. Sleep on the other hand, that would be impossible. And with the extra paperwork that Clayton had assigned to her for the night, it looked like that would be out of the picture. And possibly the night after.

Before she had the chance to settle in, a clicking of nails on the hardwood floor alerted her of the presence of another figure. A fury silhouette eagerly came trotting out of the kitchen towards her, tail wagging excitedly. She used her hand to flick on the light switch, the brightness engulfed around the ardent dog standing before her, as she forced a small chuckle through her mouth.

"Heya Tramp." She reached down to pet his head. "What'cha still doing up, silly dog? It's late."

She noticed the bright light emanating from the kitchen around the corner. Now she understood why Tramp was still awake at this time of the night. No doubt that his owner was definitely on the prowl for a late night snack to munch on. Mia knew this routine well, the rummaging through the cupboards gave it away. A smirk played at her lips and she made her way to the kitchen, with Tramp obediently following behind.

As soon as she cleared the corner, she was able to make out the figure that was leaning casually against the granite counter. A bowl of frosted flakes in one hand, she scooped a spoonful in her mouth with the other. She froze mid-way, violet eyes widening.

"Scavenging now, are we?" The smirk still plastered on her face. The sound of the noisy crunching was all she received back in response from her tenant.

Mia leaned against the doorframe, Tramp standing behind her heel. "Has she been like this all night?" she asked the dog. The dog in question did little to answer, but his tongue lolled out and he lapped his nose as if to say, 'yeah. And she won't give me any.' "If you're going to eat sugar filled carbs this early in the morning, I would suggest that you do it with a side of coffee. You know, really give that heart attack a chance to fester."

The woman swallowed loudly. "Am I under arrest?"

"If you don't surrender the frosted flakes, then you will be."

Meg shoved another spoonful into her mouth, blinking owlishly. Tramp sat down and glared as if to say 'and she hasn't even dropped any'. The cop, who was at that moment seriously considering arresting a bystander for intense cereal consumption, scoffed. "And my friends wonder why I'm always at the supermarket."

"Mphf?" Asked Meg. Mia would have liked to think that she was saying you must be so tired after a long day of work. Let me pour you a bowl of this frosted covered cancer and listen to your day while a sad piano plays in the background. She was probably just saying 'huh'. But a girl could dream.

"Eat the rest of that and you'll be doing the shopping next week."

Meg did respond to that, her shoulders arched back assuming what would could call a lawyerly position.

"You know I'm on strike against their company. They violated the workers' rights laws."

"And yet somehow you're singlehandedly funding their entire business."

Meg crunched down another hefty mouthful in defiance. Tramp sighed in a way that said as a dog he would love to eat cereal that violated workers' rights. But his owner was stingy and didn't drop a crumb. He got up and trotted away to find something more amusing to do. Mia rolled her eyes and threw her bag onto the counter.

"If you won't put that thing away, you might as well share some." She placed a hand to her hip.

"Share? With you?" Meg let out a guffaw, spoon just inches from her mouth. "You gonna try and make me?"

Another smirk played at her lips. And just like that, the bowl of sugary goodness was snatched from Meg's hands, including the spoonful that hadn't even gotten a chance to make it inside her mouth. A big smile made its way across Mia's face, as she scooped the spoonful into her mouth and crunched down loudly.

"Umm, excuse me?" Meg cupped her hands around her hips. Mia sat down at the counter, smiling in triumphant. "What the hell? Get your own flakes!"

"I would, buut….yours tastes better."

Meg huffed. "Of course they do." She dragged her feet to retrieve a glass from the cupboard. "They _always _do."

"Exactly."

Meg filled her glass with water and took a quick sip. "You're home awfully late again, dont'cha think?" She said, changing the subject.

Mia swallowed down the mouthful of sugar she had just finished consuming. "Not my fault." She began stabbing the flakes with her spoon. "It's what I get for having such a shitty Captain."

"Another long night at the precinct, huh."

"Ooh you have nooo idea." Just hearing the word 'precinct' had suddenly caused her appetite to diminish. "You should see the amount of paperwork this man decided to pile on me for the night!"

"Oh I think I have an idea, Chicky." Meg downed another swig of her water. "Remember what happened to me the last time?"

"Oh god, don't remind me!" Mia massaged her temples. "You were a wreck."

"Yea, I remember I had a mild break down that time." She leaned against the counter. "I didn't get any sleep for the past four nights."

"Oh I know that." The spoon stabbed continuously at the now softened flakes. "I was the one who had to put up with your constant mood swings and outbursts." Her shoulders slouched. "It must suck being a lawyer."

"Well what do you expect?" Meg snorted. "It's not like being an Assistant District Attorney is a breeze in the park."

"Yea that's pretty obvious."

"Hey, well, I wouldn't doubt that being a cop is any easier."

Mia's grip tightened around the defenseless silverware. "Please don't." She got up from her seat. "My job is already stressful enough as it is. I don't need the reminder"

Meg shrugged. "Just thought I'd point out the obvious."

"Yea? Well thank you kindly for that. You're such a _doll_."

"Any time, Chicky!" Now it was Meg's turn to smile. "Now if you'll excuse me," she reached out her hand, plucking her bowl back from the hands of the cereal police, "I'm gonna go get some shut eye."

Mia huffed. "Wish I could say the same." She ventured towards the cabinet, revealing a museum of stacked medication and vitamins.

Meg frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing…" She dragged the word. "Just gonna take some medicine…"

The lawyer placed a hand on her hip, brows creased. "You're not planning on taking those sleeping pills _again_, are you?"

"Heh, maybe."

"Mia." Her tone shifted to a note of concern. "Are you out of your mind?" But the woman ignored her. "You really should stop taking those. Those things are dangerous."

"They help me sleep at night."

"It doesn't matter." Mia hefted another sigh. "They're still dangerous!"

"Okay, fine!" A slam of the cabinet bounced off the walls, turning to face her friend. "I won't take them! Happy now?"

"Umm yea!" Meg said matter of fact. "Please, just do me a favor and _never _take those things again!"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Meg, serious-"

"Just promise me you won't do it!"

"Fine!" She crossed her arms. "Alright! Jeez, I'll stop taking them!"

"Good." Meg went to grab her now half cup of water. "That's all I ask." She moved around her and headed out through the doorframe. "Goodnight!"

"Night."

She listened carefully at the sound of Meg's footsteps climbing the stairs. Once she was certain that they had slowly began to fade out of earshot and the door slamming shut, her hand found the silver knob. She opened the cabinet, gaze sauntered over the stacks of bottled drugs before they landed on the familiar orangey plastic container. _Mia S. Thompson_. The paper on the bottle read before she reached to grab it, hands closed tightly around the object.

She remembered that her therapist, Doctor Anita Radcliffe had warned her about taking these pills on a daily basis before she had decided to prescribe them. Originally, her doctor was certain that she actually didn't need them. But Mia had insisted that she _did _need them. She recalled those sleepless nights, the tossing and turning.

She shook her head from the thoughts, blinking. Her grip tightened around the bottle. She let out a deep sigh and unscrewed the cap, carefully placing the two red capsules into the palm of her hand. For a second, she could feel the guilt bubbling in her belly. She knew she would be going against her best friend's promise, but she couldn't allow the feeling to take over.

Her mind cried out to her that she _needed _to take these pills. Her body desperately craved as much rest as she was needing.

Without so much as another thought, she popped the pills into her mouth and swallowed them dry. Pulling a face as she let the drugs find their way into her system, she dragged her feet, grabbed her bag that was filled with papers and made an exit towards the kitchen doorframe, carefully to make sure that all the lights were turned off. Darkness engulfed around her once again.

* * *

><p><strong>So….what did you guys think? Love it? Hate it? Once again, Galimatias my love, thank you SO much continuing to help and guide me through this! Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! More to come very soon!<strong>

**~Demi**


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